Ayy, ayy

Ru-ru-run-run, here come the menace, it’s a sobriety, like what?
Super thuggers thumpin’ on the cut
What-what, what-what? My motherf*ckin’ Uzi weighs a ton
Hit the drum, do you hear it go, “Brrup-pum-pum-pum”
Run-run, piety just really isn’t us
What a rush, see you cuttin’ up a bod’, that’s my lunch
Ru-ru-run your motherf*ckin’ pockets when I come
It’s an honor to be robbed by Denise’s only son
Yeah, give a really baby boy, beta movin’ extra heavy
Whippin’ Chevy (Uh), gotta get it, eat spaghetti with the maf’
So vegan, bitch, if he don’t get ’cause they don’t eat no steak and lobster
Sosa was my hero, only Tony since a f*ckin’ Hawk
(Out of sight) Out of mind, out of touch, out of time
Man, I’ll smoke a bogie backwards with thumb up like, “It’s fine”
(Run) See yourself, I say, selflessly divine
Leave me here to drown in glory, you’re too good to cross that line
(Run-run) Tragically struck down in my prime
By the speed at which the bags are dropping
Shoulda watched the sky
You don’t wanna live this life, it’s really not sublime
I’m only doing what I want while hockin’ loogies at the swine

Out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? (Ayy)
I-I’on give a f*ck, Out-out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you goin’ to do? What you goin’ to do?

We the motivating, devastating, captivating, Ghost and Rae relating
Product of the f*ckin 80’s, coke dealin babies
Never regulating, bag accumulating, it would not be overstating to say they are underrating
The pride of Brooklyn and the Grady baby
We don’t need no compliments or confidence
Our attitude and latitude is, “f*ck you pay me”
Next summer leather bombers, dookie ropes and smokin’ indica

Ain’t a team as mean and clean as J Meline and Michael Render, bruh
TV got no temperature, even if it did
Bitch, we cool as penguin p*ssy on the polar cap peninsula
Colder than your baby mama heart (Uh)
When she find out you been f*ckin’ with that other broad
And you ain’t got that rent for her

I know you just about mcf*ckin had it our shit is just magic
Go figure the runts of the litter did it with out scammin’
Was fryin’ in the fat of the land, now your man is mashin’
We back of the class and laughin’, you raisin a hand and tattlin’
Mike shitted in your locker then left a note with a winky face
Meet us at three o’clock if you wanna do something tragic
We’ll shrinky dinky all of that yappin’, it’s automated
The gears of the rapper shredder want action and it’ll have it

You know I’m poppin’, the product of f*ckin poverty
I’m cool as AC and you niggas you just wannabes
I slide on tracks like home plate, ride beats like road rage
Got a crib in like 4 states, uh
I get a text like, “Stay safe”
Text back, “I miss that p*ssy, be home soon and I can’t wait”
I came from a dream, triple beam, and some grey tape (Yeah)
A sister went shoppin’ and put my bags in the A8
“Hello Mr. Big Face,” the bank teller tryna get rank
I buy a hot dog stand if I’m tryna be frank
Just left the hospital, makin’ sure my nigga was straight
And sent bail, couple dollars ‘til them give him a date

Out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? (Ayy)
I-I’on give a f*ck, Out-out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R-T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you goin’ to do? What you goin’ to do?

check amazon for Out Of Sight mp3 download
these lyrics are submitted by HNHH1
browse other artists under R:R2R3R4R5R6R7
Songwriter(s): Wilder Zoby, Little Shalimar, Leon Sylvers III, 2 Chainz, El-P, Killer Mike
Record Label(s): 2021 Jewel Runners LLC under exclusive license to BMG Rights Management (US) LLC
Official lyrics by

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